♥ ♥ ♥

By  Tamara Lichtenstein

never sure

have you ever stood in a room. and swore you’ve been there before. have you ever considered. chambers of the heart as rooms. have you ever been in a room so red. your head spins. a room so red it burns. why say dissociate. when you can say. you’ve been disenchanted. i can say anything. we can have conversations in italics. we can chase perfume off of a coat hanger in your room. that’s only hypothetical. imagine everything i say. as an interpretation of sadness. imagine that. why are we. always in parking lots when this shit happens. when the shit kicks in. you can always feel the disassociation coming. your whole head pulses. the way it does the instant you know you’re about to cry. listen. i wasn’t laying in that ditch. i was doing yoga. i was entertaining. a reality where we share a door in the atlantic. a reality where you have an affinity for titanic references. my heart was talking shit again. when it happens. i keep trying to time travel. the strobe lights are on in the car. again. it’s 10am. if you black out. at 10am clap along. yesterday i tried. to walk through a mirror at the thrift store. we take turns. stumbling. helping each other up. it’s always my turn. to stand in the rain. ok. there’s good news. and bad news. no one ever tells me the good news. someone called me dramatic. someone called me once. hello. hello. phones for you. hey it’s me i’m dying. sorry. for pumpin that sad shit again. while you were trying to sleep. sorry. for waking you up. there was a pewter cougar. in my room. which is to say. i was alone. and watched a silhouette pass through the light.